


Endpoint

by turtlebook



Category: Firefly
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 08:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5999140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turtlebook/pseuds/turtlebook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mal works himself around to an altered disposition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Endpoint

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tjs_whatnot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjs_whatnot/gifts).



> I've never written Firefly before, and the language was a bit of a challenge that I might have had a bit too much fun with... But I sincerely hope you enjoy this treat, tjs_whatnot!

He came upon her crying.

Not the first tears as had been shed by any of them in these days since it all happened. Since Miranda. And likely not to be the last.

But there was, in his mind at least, a time and a place for such things. And here she was, standing on the catwalk over the cargo bay, shoulders hunched over and shaking a little. His instinct was to leave her to her quiet grief, figuring she'd not appreciate him intruding on her solitude. 

But something stayed him. Either she sighed, or turned her head a fraction, something in her bearing changed like to tell him she knew he was there, and his intrusion wasn't all that unwelcome after all. Least-aways, that was his reading of the situation, and near on their own account his feet took him over to where she stood.

As he searched himself for words - and being fairly unaccustomed as he was to finding himself in want of them - he was just a might distracted and therefore surprised when she turned herself around and grabbed him. He was even less accustomed to being grabbed by women, and Inara probably least of all.

Up this close, she seemed smaller than he was used to her being. He could set his chin on top of her head, like he could with little Kaylee. Which was neither here nor there, because while Kaylee had a damned infernal habit of hugging people in complete disregards of their natural aversion to such things as hugs, Inara sure wasn't a one much for pressing herself all up against men as weren't paying for the pleasure.

At least, she wasn't often given over to hugging _him_. Not that he was objecting. Not exactly. He just didn't rightly know where he should be putting his hands. Ideas to that effect suggested themselves to him, each more interesting and less appropriate than the last. Consequently she lost her patience before his limbs could settle on a destination.

"Honestly, Mal, it isn't that complicated. Put your arms around me. Hold me."

And she took the aforementioned bodily parts and arranged them to her liking. 

"Givin' a man orders on his own ship now," he muttered gruffly, feeling obliged to protest even as his arms made themselves comfortable with her wrapped up in them. Venturing while they were at it to pull her a might closer against him, till she was closer than she'd ever been before.

He heard her sniffle and she moved her head, turning her face into his neck so he could feel the tip of her nose on his skin. When she sighed he felt the heat of her breath through his shirt. Small things they were, yet more than enough to make a man question much about his opinions and place in the 'verse.

She wasn't so much crying now, he noticed. She'd quieted in his arms and the knowledge it was his comforting which accomplished such a feat warmed him right through. And he'd been plenty warm to begin with, since the start of all this hugging business.

"I feel better now," she said, pulling back a touch so that he caught a glimpse of liquid-bright eyes and a tiny bit of a smile.

"Good," he said. "That's good. Mighty glad to be of use."

"Really, I'm fine. You can let go of me."

"No. No, I don't think I can."

Mayhap all this had taken him unaware and even a might unwilling. But here he was now, a man of altered disposition, and most sincerely of a mind to keep a hold of her. For just however long a time as she would endure it.


End file.
